“Gladly, if you will pardon the presumption. Some of my conclusions can not be new to you. The truth is that I have possibly seen more of this old man than my duty warranted, and I feel quite ready to declare that he knows more of what has taken place in this house than he is ready to avow. I am sure that he has often visited it in secret and knows about a certain broken window as well as we do. I am also sure that he was here on the night of Mrs. Jeffrey’s suicide. He was too little surprised when I informed him of what had happened not to have had some secret inkling of it beforehand, even if we had not the testimony of the lighted candle and the book he so hurriedly replaced. Besides, he is not the man to drag himself out at night for so simple a cause as the one with which he endeavored to impose upon us. He knew what we should find in this house.” “Very good. If Mr. Jeffrey’s present explanations are true, these deductions of yours are probably correct. But Mr. Moore’s denial has been positive. I fear that it will turn out a mere question of veracity.” “Not necessarily,” I returned. “I think I see a way of forcing this man to acknowledge that he was in or about this house on that fatal night.” “You do?” “Yes, sir; I do not want to boast, and I should be glad if you did not oblige me to confide to you the means by which I hope to bring this out. Only give me leave to insert an advertisement in both evening and morning papers and in two days I will report failure or success.” The major eyed me with an interest that made my heart thrill. Then he quickly said: “You have earned the privilege; I will give you two days.” At this moment Durbin reappeared. As I heard his knock and turned to open the door for him, I cast the major an entreating if not eloquent look. He smiled and waved his hand with friendly assurance. The state of feeling between Durbin and myself was evidently well known to him. My enemy entered with a jaunty air, which changed ever so slightly when he saw me in close conference with the superintendent. He had the book in his pocket. Taking it out, he handed it to the major, with this remark: “You won’t find anything there; the gent’s been fooling you.” The major opened the book, shook it, looked under the cover, found nothing, and crossed hastily to the drawing-room. We as hastily followed him. The district attorney was talking with Miss Tuttle; Mr. Jeffrey was nervously pacing the floor. The latter stopped as we all entered and his eyes flashed to the book. “Let me take it,” said he. “It is absolutely empty,” remarked the major. “The letter has been abstracted, probably without your knowledge.”